Charmed (Death Escorts)

by Cambria Hebert

  I smiled down at the Target when a flash of red caught my eye. I looked up and saw a woman in a red silk dress enter the room.

  Red was my color.

  It was powerful, unforgettable… and it stood out in this room among the people who were all dressed in black.

  The woman wearing it didn’t look like anyone else here. She filled that dress out in a way that made every man in the room turn to look. The dress was low-cut and instead of just showing off her skin, she wore a very long strand of pearls that looped around her throat and then draped all the way to her navel.

  Her throat…

  There was something familiar about it.

  I tore my eyes away from the gown and looked up. Blond hair. Curls. Blue eyes.

  What the hell was she doing here?

  Just as I was about to turn away, she caught my eye and I swear a sadistic smile curved her lips. Her steps picked up and before I knew it she was at my side, slipping her hand around my elbow and inserting herself into my job.

  “There you are,” she said like she’d been searching the entire room for me. “I swear the ladies room must be half a mile away.” She batted her eyes at me and I thought about dumping my drink down her chest.

  “Is this your girlfriend?” the Target asked, a closed look coming over her face.

  No, no, no. I didn’t have time for this!

  I opened my mouth to vehemently deny that accusation, but she beat me to it.

  “His girlfriend?!” she asked, horrified. “Good Lord, no.”

  Rosalyn smiled and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  But George wasn’t done talking. “I’m his sister.”

  I choked on my champagne.

  George started pounding on my back, like that would somehow help. “Go easy on the booze there, brother.”

  Then she looked at Rosalyn and whispered conspiratorially. “This one likes the bottle.”

  She. Was. Dead.

  “Does he now?” Rosalyn said, glancing at me with a smile.

  “Ignore her. She doesn’t get out much,” I replied.

  “It’s true,” George sighed. “It’s why I tag along with Charming here”—she hitched her thumb at me—“to all his events.” She released me and turned to Rosalyn. “He told you we call him Charming, right?”

  She nodded and smiled. “Yes, and I can certainly see why.”

  Ha! Take that! I thought smugly.

  “When I saw him talking to you, I said to myself, Frankie get yourself over there and save that poor girl.”

  “So your name is Frankie?” Rosalyn asked.

  “Francesca,” she said and held out her hand.

  Francesca. She would take a name like that and butcher it all to hell.

  “What a beautiful name.”

  “Thank you. Rosalyn is beautiful as well,” Frankie said and I took a long drink of champagne, wishing it were scotch. Neat.

  When I got Francesca alone, I was going to ring her neck for real this time.

  The two women stood there and ran their mouths about everything they could think of. It was annoying as hell and my patience was wearing very thin. I excused myself, ignoring the glint in Frankie’s eye, and went off in search of that scotch.

  There was a bar near the front entrance and I got in the back of the line behind a bunch of men who were also no doubt looking for something that would help them put up with the women in the room.

  After I collected my scotch in a crystal decanter, I moved off to the side and took a swallow. I was still feeling murderous so I figured I needed a few more minutes to chill.

  I lifted the liquid to my lips again and through the clear glass someone caught my eye. I swallowed so quickly that the alcohol felt like a hard knot going down my throat. It was painful, but I didn’t notice.

  I blinked, staring at the woman who practically glided by just feet away.

  It couldn’t be.

  I blinked and looked again. She was wearing a golden dress that caught the light when she walked. It was the kind of dress that women wore… a long time ago. Back then. The kind that hugged a woman’s chest but then flared out into a full skirt that went all the way to the floor. She was tall and thin, the natural kind of thin that no amount of eating would add any weight to her frame. Pale-blond hair fell perfectly straight over her shoulders and down her back.

  My throat went dry. My vision seemed to blur.

  It wasn’t her. I knew it wasn’t.

  But, my God, she was so familiar.

  The woman turned to go up the stairs, pausing as if she sensed my stare. She looked over her shoulder. Her green eyes met mine.

  The glass in my hand slid to the floor and shattered on impact.

  Chapter Eight

  “Ghost - the soul or spirit of a deceased person or animal that can appear, in visible form or other manifestation, to the living.”

  Frankie

  Priceless. The look on Charming’s face when he saw me in that ballroom was priceless. It took everything I had inside me not to laugh out loud at the horror on his face when I declared I was his sister.

  Of course, horror wasn’t all I saw…

  When he first looked up, when he saw me in this sinful red dress, he liked it. I could tell the way his eyes roamed over the silk, the way he took in every curve. It gave me a funny feeling in my stomach… one I couldn’t really describe. It wasn’t the first time; it was just the first time I actually acknowledged it was he that made me feel that way.

  But then he looked at my face.

  And that’s when the fun began.

  I knew when he excused himself from our conversation that he was angry. A little warning bell went off in my head, telling me maybe I was pushing him too far. But it was too late to turn back. I was in this.

  Rosalyn was actually a pretty down-to-earth girl for being a senator’s daughter. I actually liked talking to her. I saw the way she watched him as he walked away, her eyes following him until he was out of sight. He probably had, what, fifteen minutes tops with her? How in the hell did he manage to wrap her around his finger that fast?

  Something had to be done about that.

  Of course there were other people there vying for her attention. When her father called her name, she looked at me apologetically and I smiled. “Duty calls.”

  She sighed. “I suppose so. I enjoyed talking with you tonight. I thought this event would be like every other one I get dragged to.” She stuck out her tongue. “But this one turned out to be pretty entertaining.”

  I smiled again and turned to go when she caught my hand and pressed a business card into it. “Maybe we can have lunch soon?”

  I guess I looked surprised because she made a face and said, “Most people I spend time with are, like, over fifty.”

  I laughed. “I’m sorry. Sure, lunch would be fun.”

  “Bring your brother, too.”

  Oh, yay. She wanted me to bring Charming.

  “Are you sure about that?” I asked, wondering if what I told her had fallen on deaf ears.

  “A girl can never have too many friends,” Rosalyn replied. “Especially young ones.”

  I gave her a wave and went off to see who Charming was torturing with his presence now. I rounded the corner in time to see him standing off by himself with this weird look on his face. Almost as if he’d seen a ghost.

  And then the glass he held fell from his hand and shattered everywhere, causing everyone near him to flinch at the sound.

  Waiters rushed to clean up the mess and Charming just stood there pale and staring at the staircase, unmoving.

  I walked up to him and grabbed his arm. “What’s the matter with you?” I demanded. “Did you need some extra attention?”

  He blinked and looked at me, his expression clearing a bit. “Did you see her?” he asked.

  “Who?”

  “The blonde in the gold dress…” He glanced at the stairs again. Without another word he took off, rushing up the stairs and out of sight.

&
nbsp; A woman dressed in a black beaded lace gown came rushing over. “All guests are to remain downstairs,” she said, then looked down at the half-cleaned-up mess. “What happened?”

  I don’t know why I tried to smooth things over. I wasn’t here to help him. But the words just came out anyway. “I’m sorry. I startled him and he dropped the glass.” One of the waiters looked up at me sharply. He knew I was lying. I gave him the evil eye and turned back to the woman who was likely hosting the party.

  “I think he was embarrassed and just wanted a moment alone to compose himself.”

  As if on cue, Charming descended the stairs, looking unruffled and polished as ever.

  “I didn’t mean to cause a commotion,” I said, drawing away her stare. “This is a lovely event, one of the best I’ve ever attended. And your gown is just stunning. I bet that beading was all hand sewn.”

  She straightened under the compliments and was about to reply when Charming arrived at my side. “Madam,” he said ultra smoothly. “Please allow me to pay for the broken glass.”

  “That isn’t necessary. Accidents happen.”

  He grinned, showing off his perfect white teeth. “Well, then allow me to make a second donation this evening. Would you care to lead the way?”

  He held out his arm and she all but tripped, wrapping her wrist and arm around him. They began to walk away toward the donation table when he glanced over his shoulder. “Sister, dear,” he said, his voice sickeningly sweet. “Don’t go anywhere just yet.”

  And that was my cue to leave.

  I dug my coat check ticket out of my clutch and turned it in, wondering after several minutes if the guy decided to go to the store and buy me a new one because it took so long for him to bring it back. When he did arrive, I snatched it out of his hand and didn’t bother to put it on but went out the great double doors and onto the porch (if you could even call it that. It was bigger than my entire apartment).

  On my way to the stairs, I wondered how long the valet would take to find my Jeep.

  Charming appeared out of nowhere, taking me by the elbow and pulling me around. “Where do you think you’re going?” he growled.

  “Away from you.”

  Someone passed by and glanced at us. Charming dropped my arm and smiled. “You shouldn’t be out here without your coat. You’ll catch a cold.” He took my coat and held it out like any gentleman would.

  The passerby smiled and moved out of earshot.

  “Wouldn’t want you to die,” Charming intoned when I slipped my arms into the sleeves.

  “Gee, how thoughtful of you to be concerned,” I said dryly.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he said low.

  “I’m here for charity,” I said innocently.

  “What’s the cause and how much did you donate?” he asked, rocking back on his heels and slipping his hands into his slacks.

  Even when he was acting like a pompous ass, he looked like a perfect Ken doll. Idiot.

  “It’s called the save-an-innocent-woman fund. And thankfully, screwing up your plans didn’t cost me a thing.”

  “You can show up here tonight, try and make me look like an idiot, ruin my chance of getting to know the Target—”

  “Her name is Rosalyn,” I interjected.

  He talked right over me.

  “But there is always tomorrow. And the next day. I’m not going to give up.”

  “I told her you were gay.”

  That got his attention.

  He stood there for long moments, his perfect jaw practically unhinged from his face. “You did what?” he finally asked, shocked.

  “I admit, you’re good. You managed to impress her already. I had to do something to lessen the blow of that charm that seems to work on everyone but me.”

  The look—the anger—that crossed his face made me take a step back. Again, I wondered if I was acting like a fool by baiting the wrong man.

  I certainly didn’t stand around and wait to see what he would do. I rushed down the stairs and gave my ticket to the valet and prayed he would hurry the hell up and that my Jeep wasn’t parked in the nosebleed section of this property.

  The valet went off in search of my car and then I was alone. Outside. In the dark.

  “She couldn’t possibly have believed you,” he said from behind. His voice was low and calm. Something about that made that feeling in my stomach start up all over again. Full force.

  I looked over my shoulder, tossing my curls, and I moved my head. I might feel jumbled up on the inside, but damned if I would show it. “Why is that? All I am is a very concerned sister about her extremely charming brother who just doesn’t understand the effect he has on the opposite sex.” I put my hand on my hip. “Why wouldn’t she believe me?”

  His chin dropped down and he pinned me with an aggressive green gaze. The muscles in the side of his jaw worked and I glanced around for the valet. He was nowhere in sight.

  Charming’s perfectly polished black dress shoes made a hollow sound when he stepped forward. I turned fully around to face him, standing my ground.

  I pretended not to notice the way my knees began to shake as he prowled toward me.

  “The valet is going to be right back.” I reminded him we weren’t alone.

  He said nothing, just took another step closer, his eyes not once leaving my face.

  “Someone could come out here at any moment.”

  He stopped in front of me, so close I could feel the body heat he emanated, and his shoulders were wide enough that I could see nothing but him.

  He reached out, his hand delving inside my open coat and sliding over my hip, his fingers digging in just slightly. “I like that dress,” he growled. “Red is my color.”

  “Is it?” I lifted a brow and ignored the heat searing my body. “I hadn’t realized you’d staked your claim over a color.”

  He took another step forward and I had no choice but to step back. He was like a solid wall that bulldozed me wherever he wanted.

  “From now on,” he said low, “you aren’t allowed to wear this color.” As he spoke, his other hand also found its way beneath my coat and curved around the other side of my hip.

  “I don’t take orders from you.” Damn my breathless voice!

  “No?” he asked, amused, the corner of his lips tilting slightly. “What will you take from me?”

  My back hit the nearby brick retaining wall. And I was completely surrounded. One of his hands crawled around to the small of my back and grabbed a handful of the red silk.

  I didn’t have time to say anything. To declare I couldn’t even stand his presence. I wouldn’t have been able to form a sentence anyway because he yanked me forward and his mouth covered mine.

  Aggressive. That’s how he kissed. Like he was staking a claim, not only on my lips, but my entire body.

  I couldn’t think.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  I didn’t care.

  I only wanted his lips to never leave mine.

  He kissed continuously, endlessly. His lips moved over mine over and over again with the perfect amount of demand. And his hands… Oh mother, his hands.

  They had minds of their own. They started out at my hips and around my waist, but they didn’t stay there long. They smoothed out the silk he’d bunched at my back and then cupped my body, sliding up my sides and around until my breasts were filling his very large, very warm hands. He squeezed—not enough so it would cause me pain, but enough that my body arched forward begging for more.

  And boy did he give it. His mouth pulled away from mine and my head fell back, my hair sticking to the rough brick wall as he dropped kisses down the hollow of my neck, sucking and licking until I thought I would melt into a puddle right there on the street. His hands fell lower so he could draw lazy circles over my belly, the repeated movement almost making me mad as his lips dropped even lower into the exposed cleavage on my chest.

  My hands found his hair and pushed in, ruffling the perfect styl
e and tangling at the base of his head.

  I might have moaned.

  It was all a blur.

  My body was on overdrive and he was the one in control.

  And then his hands cupped my face, anchoring it, holding it hostage as his lips ravaged mine some more. I met him kiss for kiss, and when his tongue tangled with mine, every muscle inside my body went lax.